


phases

by choose_joy



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Pre-Canon, Tattoo symbolism, Tattoos, ish, spoilers for zolf's backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choose_joy/pseuds/choose_joy
Summary: zolf has a lot of tattoos.this is how he got them.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	phases

**Author's Note:**

> this contains spoilers for zolf's backstory, but no spoilers about the actual campaign!

Zolf is 20 when he gets his first tattoo.

It’s a small little thing, really. Honestly, his parents probably would never have known if it hadn’t been for Feryn’s big mouth. As it stands, though, he’s served the talking-to of his life, including the standard fare (“you’re a disappointment”, “why can’t you be more like your brother”) and some new particularly cutting remarks (“no one’s gonna want you if you’re covered in ink”).

Truly, he doesn’t understand the fuss. It’s a small canary, in black and white lines, flying comfortably away from his ribcage.

Actually, in retrospect, he can see how that might look to a family of mining dwarves.

Still, it's a cute little piece, done by an artist in the neighboring town, and he likes it. Screw his parents.

~~~

Zolf is 25 when he gets his second tattoo.

It's almost stupid, he thinks to himself, that his parents seem to have no qualms about tattoos when Feryn gets one as well: a matching sunflower for each of them, on their left shoulderblades.

(Later, when they’ve healed, they’ll take to clapping each other on those shoulders when they pass. Sometimes it's an i’m-irritated-at-you slap, but most of the time, it's a pat of camaraderie, a feeling that they get to share something secret.)

~~~

Zolf is 37 when he gets his third (and fourth) tattoos. 

Feryn’s gone, now. Has been, for a while. His parents are gone too, and now there’s nothing left for him in Herefordshire. Mining was never his dream, but Feryn loved it, and Zolf loved his brother, so he stayed.

Looking back on it, maybe he should have left. Taken his own 20-year-old advice and left town before he made everything worse. Before--

So, he gets an addition: his canary carries in its claws a sprig of rosemary, and on the other side of his ribcage he adds a caged blackbird.

He leaves town a week later.

~~~

Zolf is 38 when he gets a number of tattoos in quick succession.

He’s joined the navy, now, and it's the “done thing”, although no one says it outright. Still, he’s enjoyed getting them in the past, and honestly, he’ll do anything to feel something again. Feel like he’s a part of something, like he’s not missing another half of himself.

(He resolutely does not think of his sunflower, whose twin is gone forever).

He chooses some random pieces from a flash sheet, things he’s seen others with that seem like they’ll fit in, so that they won’t ask him more questions.

A nautical star, on his right bicep (the irony is not lost on him, that he feels adrift, with no real home to find his way back to).

A knotted rope twisting around his wrist (a deckhand is a perfectly respectable thing to be).

A pig and a rooster make their home on his feet (he needs all the luck he can get, and when his ship goes down, he can’t help but send a quick prayer of thanks).

~~~

Zolf is 44 the next time he gets a tattoo.

He’s lost his ship, now forever on the ocean floor, along with all of his friends. Or, maybe not friends, but mates. People that made him feel a part of something, like maybe he mattered because he helped, because he belonged.

He doesn’t grieve them the way he did Feryn, though. Or his parents, for that matter.

When he finds himself a member of a group of pirates, he takes it in stride, honestly. They’re more open with each other, more willing to say what they mean outright. There’s still a hierarchy, of course, but it's different than in the navy. For the first time in a long time, he lets himself unwind, just a bit. It's not a family, he knows that, but it's something akin to one, in a lot of ways. They look out for one another by choice, not by some duty to the government. It's... nice.

This time, when they ask if he wants to join them to a tattoo parlor in port, he says yes. A pair of crossed cannons on his forearm, a dagger through a rose on the opposite side, and four swallows join the aviary on his torso.

His crewmates clap him on the shoulder when he returns to the ship, and their hands brush against the sunflower there.

It's nice, too.

~~~

Zolf is 50 when he finally decides what to put on his shoulder. He’s been saving it for a while, honestly. It's the last bit to complete before he’s got a full sleeve on that right arm, and he’s been debating for a while.

He left the pirate ship a few months ago. After so many years, he’s seen a lot of... turnover. Lots of friends killed, or drowned, or, if they’re lucky, retired.  _ Huh,  _ he thinks,  _ guess that means I’m a lucky one too.  _

He’s tired of the sea. Poseidon is a fine god, and he doesn’t mind the whole aesthetic part of it, but, well, it's been almost 13 years since his legs (leg) have been on solid ground for longer than a week, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it.

It's actually that thought that gives him the idea, in the end. Hell, he’s already got the sailor look going for him, may as well commit to it. The next day, he finds a shop, and books an appointment for later that day with a tough-looking human woman who promises to have the sketch ready for him in a few hours.

That evening, he walks out of the studio with a fresh lighthouse on his shoulder, dark waves lapping at the rocky shore. It's a beautiful piece-- the artist did a great job, and it somehow manages to tie the whole sleeve together. 

He knows he should go home and clean it and then rest, but somehow he ends up finding himself at a pub, slowly running his fingers around the perimeter of the tattoo (he’s not stupid enough to actually touch the thing). The night’s uneventful, honestly. He has a couple pints before he decides that enough is enough and aims to head home, running to the restroom quickly before heading out.

On a corkboard next to the stall, there’s an advert: “Start your own mercenary company!” it says, in big, black letters. Below it is a number, a name, and an address.

Huh.

**Author's Note:**

> i love that my new coping mechanism is just to project onto zolf. love that grumpy dwarf.
> 
> anyway, you can find me @choose__joy on twitter and thisisadingdongblog on tumblr!


End file.
